The Return of an Infamous Bruder
by doiteain
Summary: Ludwig (Germany) has not seen his bruder since the end of WWII, and is haunted by his memory. When said bruder returns, how will he react? And why did Gilbert have to fade away in the first place? -One-shot- Rated T to be safe.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia**

**Some translations (mostly basic or guessable things): **

**Preußen=Prussia**

**Osten=East (Germany's nickname for Prussia)**

**Westen=West (Prussia's nickname for Germany)**

**Bruder=brother**

**Was=what**

**Frankreich=France**

**Spanien=Spain**

**Italien=Italy**

**Ja/Nein=Yes/No**

**Nichts=Nothing**

**Rom=Rome**

**Verdammt=cursing... pretty much the equivalent to "Damn" or "Damn it"**

**And I think that's all of them... Enjoy!**

* * *

Ludwig had never been quite the same since the end of the Second World War. Yes, he had been divided; yes, he was controlled by other countries, but he never got to see his brother again. His brother, Preußen, Osten, Gilbert, the self-proclaimed source of awesome.

Gilbert had already been in a weak state from being dissolved in 1947, but then the Soviet Union came along and dragged him away. But Ludwig didn't cry. Gilbert always told him not to cry, that it was too un-awesome to cry.

The very second the Berlin Wall started to come down, Ludwig was on the other side, searching for his Bruder. But he couldn't find him. There wasn't even a body, a grave, or a single trace of the once awesome Preußen.

Through the years, Ludwig was haunted by the memory of his Bruder: a flash of white hair, a glimmer of what could have been red eyes, or a "kesesesese~" that was nothing more than the wind rustling through the trees.

One day, at a World Meeting, Ludwig had just gotten it under control. Again.

There was a sudden loud banging at the door.

Ludwig fumed. "America!"

"What?" the American asked between bites of his hamburger. "That's not me, dude."

Ludwig furrowed his brow. What was going on?

The intruder kicked the door open and the entire room fell silent at the sight of him. It was Preußen. He was still in his bloody and tattered military uniform. "Kesesesese~ Was? Is no one going to greet the awesome me?"

Ludwig froze where he stood.

Spanien and Frankreich immediately ran over and hugged Gilbert. Frankreich had one, so-called "romantic" tear rolling down his cheek and Spanien was completely bawling. Both were rambling about how much they had missed Preußen.

Gilbert only laughed and hugged them back.

Some of the other countries also went up to talk to Gilbert, but all of the Germanics stayed back.

Ludwig slammed his hands down on the table. "If you are all _finished_, let's get back to to the meeting and the problems at hand." Order. He needed to maintain order.

All of the countries stared at him in shock for a few seconds, but then they all gradually made their way back to their seats.

Preußen pulled up a chair to the meeting table. "Still got that un-awesome stick up your ass, eh, Westen? Kesese~" He propped his feet up. The caked mud and dried blood fell onto the table in small clumps.

Ludwig's eyebrow twitched and, if it were possible, he stiffened up even more. "Who will speak next?"

Everyone remained silent for a moment.

Italien Veneziano's hand rose slowly.

"Ja, Italien?" If he needed his shoes tied again…

"PASTAAA!"

Ludwig facepalmed. It was going to be a long meeting.

A little while later, Ludwig looked down at something pecking at his hand. It was his Bruder's bird (What was its name agin?) Gilbird.

The little yellow chick dropped a small piece of paper in front of him.

Ludwig returned his focus to the meeting. He felt Gilbird peck his hand again and he glared at the chick.

And Gilbird glared back.

Ludwig continued their glaring match until he eventually sighed and picked up the paper scrap. Osten had written a note on it in his in incredibly messy (and yet somehow completely legible) scrawl.

_'Hey, Westen! Do you want to get a beer with the awesome me after this un-awesome meeting?'_

Ludwig rolled his eyes. He took his pen and wrote a simple _'Ja'_ on the reverse side of the note in his neat, boxy handwriting.

Gilbird, apparently pleased with the response (since when exactly could birds read?), took the piece of paper, shot Ludwig another glare, and then hopped back over to where Gilbert sat.

Germany returned his attention to England's speech about the economy.

After the meeting, Gilbert immediately walked over to him and slung an arm over his shoulders as they left the conference hall. "So, Westen, where are we going?"

"You should know, Osten. We are in Berlin," Ludwig said.

Gilbert snorted. "Mir lied for not being around to know how it's changed over the years."

Ludwig tensed. He remained silent as they both continued walking for a few seconds.

His bruder turned and looked at him. "Was?"

"Nichts."

Gilbert shrugged and they continued walking until they reached a bar that Ludwig thought his bruder would like (as a place to get a drink, not as a place to party). They sat down and ordered their beers.

Gilbert took a swig of his. "So, Westen, what's been exciting for you lately?"

Ludwig looked at him.

"Was? Can't I be a good older bruder for once and pretend to care about semi-important events in your life, Lutz?"

Ludwig's brow furrowed (and he decided to ignore Gilbert's question). "Don't call me that, Osten."

"Was, _Lutz_? It's only your name, Lutz."

"I told you to not call me that."

"Kesesesese~ Give a dead man his pleasures, eh, Westen?"

Ludwig flinched again.

Gilbert grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Flinching and freezing, why? It's un-awesome."

"I haven't been flinching, Bruder."

Gilbert's red eyes narrowed. "Don't lie to me, Westen."

"I didn't!"

Osten leaned back but did not break eye contact. "It's because I'm supposed to be dead, isn't it?"

Ludwig stiffened slightly. "Nein… But how did you manage to come back?"

Gilbert smirked, and then shrugged. "Rom showed me a few tricks. Kesese~"

Ludwig rolled his eyes. Of course it was Rom.

Gilbert looked at him again. "But no avoiding my question, Lutz."

The blonde looked away silently for a few moments. "It's not that you're dead… but _why_ you are dead."

"War? That's a normal way for nations to die. Don't tell me you've grown sentimental while I've been gone, Lutz."

Ludwig gave him a stern look. "It's not that."

Gilbert raised an eyebrow. "Then what?"

Ludwig looked away again under his bruder's intense gaze. "You took almost all of the blame and the consequences when you weren't the only one at fault…"

Gilbird burrowed out of the albino's hair and glared at Ludwig again.

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Get over it… Both of you." He bopped the chick on its head with the tip of his finger. He then looked at the blonde. "You were punished, too."

"But I wasn't taken away by Ivan," Ludwig said. "I wasn't dissolved… I-I didn't die!"

Gilbert snorted and took another swig of beer. "It's not that bad, Westen. I was already dying anyway."

Ludwig froze. "What…"

"I was already dying," Gilbert repeated.

"Since when?" Ludwig asked. And why didn't his bruder tell him? (Ah yes, his pride. How could Ludwig have forgotten that key element?)

Gilbert stopped to think for a moment. "Eighteen seventy? Eighteen seventy-one?"

Ludwig's eyes widened. "But that was when…"

"When you finally got your act together and started to become more powerful? Ja, I know."

Guilt welled up in the blonde's gut. "So it still is my fault that you died."

"Nein! Verdammt, why do you keep thinking that?" Gilbert asked.

"You were weakening because I got stronger without thinking of the consequences…"

"Nein. You got stronger because I was weakening."

"How is that any different?"

"Otto was an awesome Prussian, ja?"

"Ja… What are you getting at?"

Osten facepalmed. "Lutz, I was weakening, ja?"

"Ja."

"And you are my little bruder, ja?"

"Ja…?"

Gilbert exhaled (as if to prepare himself). "Who I've taken care of and watched out for his whole life?"

"J—" Ludwig's eyes widened in realization. "Oh."

"Kesese~ Finally got it, Lutz?" The albino smirked.

Ludwig nodded. "So—"

"So as soon as I accepted that I was starting to fade, I wanted to make sure you weren't in a bad place when I left." Gilbert looked away for half a moment. "And I might have overreacted a little bit when you were deep in that economic shit after the Great War the same time I was really feeling myself fade…"

"Only a little bit?"

Osten shrugged. "A little bit, a lot-a bit. Not much of a difference, really."

Ludwig sighed and shook his head (Did he really expect anything else from his bruder?).

Gilbert slammed down his (fifth or sixth) empty mug. "But now that that is done with, I have two more orders of business with you, Lutz."

Ludwig looked at him. "Ja?"

"Firstly, I didn't bring any money with me."

The blonde sighed. "I'll pay for your drinks, Bruder."

Gilbert grinned. "Awesome. Kesesesese~"

"What was the other thing you wanted to tell me?"

"Heh, it's kind of funny, really." Gilbert scratched the back of his head. "You see, when old Rom told me how to come down here and visit, he kind of forgot to tell me how to get back."

Ludwig sighed again. "Ja, I'll let you stay at my house. You can have the basement." He wasn't using it for anything else anyway.

"Kesesesese~, awesome!" Osten stood up. "I've claimed your soon-to-be awesome basement in the name of the awesome Preußen!"

"The room being yours doesn't make it Prussian territory, Bruder."

Gilbert smirked. "So says you, Lutz, but you should listen to your awesome Bruder instead."

Ludwig rolled his eyes. But maybe (just maybe) it was nice to have Gilbert around again.

* * *

**A/N: I've been wanting to write this one-shot for a while now~ (I was watching a tonne of Prussia AMV's about a month or two ago, was overwhelmed by the feels, and some of this came out. I finished it this week.)  
**

**But next weekend I'm going to try to post the first chapter of my gakuen!Spamano fic, or maybe of my pirate!Rome fic. Not sure which yet (_maybe_ both).**

**Also, I tried the "what Hetalia country are you" quiz-type-thing and my highest scores were: 6/10~ Germany, France, and Spain, 9/10~ Hungary, and... and... 10/10~... Poland. Why! I'm not like Feliks! (Even though none of the questions for Poland make me seem 'so totes, like, fabulous'). Silly Polish heritage, see what you do to me?**

**But thank you to everyone who reviews! Reviews are splendid things of joy and wonder and amazement and awesomeness and more joy. Really. So you should review~**


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